


IronDad and His Spider Son

by AAAtlas247



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-06-19 03:11:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15501033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAAtlas247/pseuds/AAAtlas247
Summary: This is just a series of fluffy one-shots in which Tony is doing his best to be a supportive father figure to Peter, and Peter tries to reciprocate.





	1. Hit the Road

“What’s all this?” Tony demanded, striding into the living room and raising his eyebrows at a frazzled-looking Peter. His apprentice was sprawled on the couch, surrounded on three sides by stacks of papers, his laptop, and two half-finished mugs of coffee.

“Studying for my driver’s test, Mr. Stark!” Peter gave him a small, sheepish smile. “I’m really sorry about the mess. I’ll clean it up as soon as I’m done!”

“Yes, you will. And also— kid, I don’t think anyone has ever studied so hard for a driver’s test before.”

Peter muttered something intelligible, quickly bending over a paper again.

Tony raised a hand to his ear. “What was that?”

“This is my second try,” Peter repeated louder. He still didn’t look up at Tony, his eyes fixed on a paper in his lap. He almost looked embarrassed. “I’m, uh, not the best at driving.”

“Hey kid, what did I say about the self-deprecation?”

“Not to.”

“Precisely,” Tony said, satisfied. “So what are you sitting here for? Let’s go!”

Peter looked up sharply, his eyes wide with surprise. “W-what?”

“We’re going out on the town. You and me.”

“Why?”

“For practice. You won’t learn anything by sitting here and memorizing rules.”

“But—”

“No buts. Meet me outside in five.”

“I’m not sure I—”

“I’m sorry, are you turning me down?” Tony raised one eyebrow.

“No, of course I’m not turning you down, Mr. Stark! I just… your cars are so expensive and I don’t want to mess up—”

“You won’t mess up my car.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m a genius and I know everything. So do you want to go for a ride or don’t you?”

Peter was practically glowing, a bright grin making its way across his face. “Absolutely!”

“Then I’ll see you in a bit.” Tony strode on past, his hands clasped behind his back. “I trust you, Spider-Man. It’ll be okay.”

_Ten minutes later_

“This isn’t okay!” Tony and Peter lurched forward, caught only by their seat belts as the orange Audi screeched to an abrupt halt. The red stoplight glowed above their heads, giving them both a momentary, merciful reprieve from the terrors of their journey down the highway.

Tony huffed. “Buddy, I am about two seconds away from having FRIDAY take control of this car.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark! I told you I was bad.” Peter looked crestfallen, and Tony softened. He was just trying his best. “No, you’re not bad. Just… a little rough.” He let out a breath, massaging his forehead. He still didn’t know how to do this mentoring (parenting?) thing all that well, at least when it came to situations like these. His only rule of thumb was to consider what Howard would do, and then do the complete opposite. It seemed to be working well so far. “You maintain control of the car well enough, but you’re going to give me a heart attack with how fast you start and stop. And you drift over the lines a lot. Don’t do that.”

The light turned green. “Remember what I said,” Tony hummed.

“Right,” Peter responded, sounding thoughtful. The car nosed forward, taking its time. The world around them drifted slowly past. Behind them, someone abruptly laid on the horn. Peter jumped, and Tony half-expected him to slam his foot on the gas pedal, but, to his credit, he gradually sped up until he was cruising at a respectable speed down the road, staying safely within the lines.

Tony beamed proudly. “See? Look at that. A master already.”

***

“Okay, you’re coming up on a curve, so you need to— oh my God, _SLOW DOWN_ —” Tony’s sentence ended in a wordless shout as the Audi went screeching around a hairpin turn. The vehicle roared onward down the two-lane road, its two shaken passengers scrambling to maintain their wits.

Tony felt queasy. “Peter, I _swear_ —”

His apprentice looked upset. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, it came up fast! It won’t happen again!”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hear you. But the next time you come up on one of those turns, slow down before you get to it. Don’t ever speed around a curve like that again. Did they teach you nothing in driving school?”

“Yeah, of course they did, but I just get nervous.”

He exhaled slowly, trying to soothe his unsettled stomach. “That makes two of us. Just slow down next time, squirt, and you’ll be fine.”

Peter nodded, and they settled into comfortable silence. Another sharp turn approached, and this time Peter handled it with ease. The car swung gracefully around the curve and continued seamlessly down the road, passing an orange, diamond-shaped road sign as it went.

Peter flashed Tony a mischievous grin. “Road work ahead? Yeah, I sure hope it does!”

Tony groaned, a pained expression on his face. “That. Don’t do that, either. You’re killing me, kid.”

***

As the afternoon began to fade into dusk, the exit sign appeared in the distance.

Tony glanced over at Peter, who had been concentrating hard on the road in front of him for a solid forty minutes. He had to hand it to him; he really was trying hard. “Okay,” Tony said “so here’s a pop quiz. What did I say earlier about merging?”

“You said to make sure no cars were there before I changed lanes.”

“And?”

Peter’s response was swift and sure. “If there are cars there, then they have the right-of-way, so there’s a chance they won’t yield. If they don’t, I have to either slow down or speed up depending on where they are in the lane and how fast they’re going.”

“Excellent. So you ready?”

“Yeah, I think so!”

“You think so or you know so?”

“I know so, Mr. Stark!”

“Here we go!” Tony held his breath as Peter turned into the exit lane, staying reasonably close to the speed limit. They glided steadily toward the merge, and Tony could see the anxiety all written across Peter’s face, clear as day.

“Can I do a drum roll?” Tony asked.

“Go for it!”

Tony began tapping rhythmically on the dashboard, not loud enough to be distracting to his protégée, but just enough to break the tense atmosphere. They emerged from the exit lane and roared toward the interstate. A silver van paced the Audi for a moment, not breaking stride. Before Tony could draw a breath to warn him, Peter had already slowed down and allowed it to roar past. They merged seamlessly, blending into the traffic and picking up the pace.

Tony grinned. “You did a great job, Pete.”

“Do you think I’m ready for my driver’s test?”

“Yes, I think you are.” He glanced over at him. “Think you can get us home? I can take over for you if you’re too tired.”

“No, sir, I’ve got it!”

Tony just smiled. _I know._

***

Despite their road trip’s rough patches, Tony had no doubt that Peter was going to ace any and all curveballs that the driving school threw at him. And, if he didn’t, Tony would be more than happy to practice with him some more.

But, as it turned out, that would be unnecessary. That evening, Peter came bursting into Tony’s workshop, frantically waving a piece of paper around in the air. “Mr. Stark!"

Tony dropped the suit he'd been working on, whirling around in his chair to give him his full attention. "And? What's the verdict?"

The glow on Peter's face told him everything even before he'd spoken a word. "Mr. Stark, I passed!”

“Great job, kiddo!” Tony wrapped Peter in a quick side hug, affectionately ruffling his hair as he pulled away. “I’m proud of you, Pete.”

Peter looked as though he were about to burst with happiness. “You are?”

“Of course,” Tony said simply. “I always am.”


	2. Five Minutes

It took about three days of exhausting, relentless labor in the workshop before Tony finally let himself succumb to sleep. The last thing he remembered was resting his cheek against a desk in his shop, his eyes fluttering shut. _Five minutes,_ he told himself. _Five minutes, and then I’ve gotta recalibrate the…_

He was out before he finished the thought.

He didn’t stir as the door to his shop opened and Peter slipped in. “Hey, Mr. Stark, I wanted to ask if—” He paused as his gaze fell on Tony’s still, sleeping form. He immediately turned around and dashed out of the workshop, only to return a few moments later with a large, soft blanket. Peter crept over to him and draped it gently over his shoulders before backing out of the shop and closing the door gently behind him.

Tony would wake up a few hours later and, when he did, he would pull the blanket around himself, a tiny, sleepy smile forming on his face as he finally left the lab. He collapsed in his own bed a few minutes later, a happy, content feeling welling up in his chest.

He felt loved.


	3. Stargazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring Thor and an overprotective Tony.

Peter knew he was supposed to have been back at Stark Tower two hours ago— but the night sky was just too mesmerizing, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to go back indoors just yet. He was laying on the roof of an office building, his hands folded across his chest and his ankles crossed, gazing upwards in silent captivation. Thousands of tiny white specks danced light years above his head, scattered across the inky blackness. Galaxies were up there somewhere, thousands upon thousands of galaxies and nebulae and planets sprinkled across the vast, black emptiness. It made Peter’s head spin just thinking about it. He tried, sometimes, to put into perspective how small the earth was, how small _he_ was, but he could never quite manage it. It blew his mind every time.

 

Peter gave a small, tired smile. A night breeze nudged playfully at him, rolling across his body and vanishing like a wave. It had been _ages_ since he’d felt so calm. He had the stars over his head and the wind in his hair and he was so _relaxed_ —

 

“Greetings, small Peter!”

 

Peter sat bolt upright, startled. Who had managed to sneak up on him? His gaze fell on the individual standing in front of him, and his jaw dropped. _Thor?_

The god of thunder was standing in front of him, looking at him with a calm curiosity. Mjolnir dangled from one hand. “I apologize for scaring you! I believe Mr. Stark would never let me hear the end of it if he knew.”

  
“I— it’s all right!” Peter sprang to his feet. Excited butterflies were dancing in his stomach, and he almost felt dizzy. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, Thor! Can I call you Thor, is that all right? Are we on a first name basis? Am I on a first name basis with a demigod? Oh my goodness—”

 

Thor just laughed, a loud, booming sound that came from deep within his chest. It was music to his ears. “Of course we are on a first-name basis!”

 

Peter was speechless for a moment. Was this really happening? He was really standing face to face with _Thor_ , the god of thunder, the prince of Asgard. “I am _shook_ ,” he announced, and then mentally smacked himself. _That_ was the best thing he could think of to say?

 

Thor tilted his head to one side. “Is that a good thing, this ‘shook’?” The silly word, combined with his deep, serious voice, made Peter want to giggle.

 

“Yeah, shook. It’s slang for startled or surprised. My age group uses it a lot,” he explained.

 

“Shook,” Thor repeated, sounding thoughtful. “All right then.” Peter bit back another laugh.

  
Thor seemed to consider something for a moment. “May I join you?” he asked. “I have been wanting to meet you properly, especially after I heard everything that happened with the Vulture.”

 

It was official— Peter’s life was insane. It took him a moment to find his voice. “Yeah, of course. I’m sure you know all about the stars!”

 

Thor beamed. “Yes, I am from them!” He settled down beside Peter, who felt giddiness rising up inside of him. _This is really happening, oh my God, oh my God—_

 

Time trickled onward. Somewhere in the back of Peter’s mind he knew Tony would be furious that he stayed out so late, but stargazing with a demigod was much, much more interesting. He listened with rapt attention to Thor’s explanations of the stars, followed his stories about his home planet, plied him with questions. Thor didn’t seem to mind, happily obliging. His voice rumbled onward, a steady, calming sound that blocked out everything else. Peter decided that he could listen to him talk for ages.

 

It was approaching 3 AM when a brilliant white glow appeared in the distance, rapidly approaching them.

 

Peter frowned. “Thor, what’s that?”

 

Thor squinted. “I believe, Peter, that that is your mentor.”

 

Peter whistled nervously. “He won’t be happy with me.”

 _  
_ “Leave it to me.” Thor rose to his feet, Peter on his heels. His back felt cold from where he’d been lying on the concrete for so long, and he stuck close to him.

 

Iron Man was already landing on the edge of the building, and Tony popped out of the suit a moment later. He strode toward them, his head high and eyebrows raised quizzically. He looked slightly surprised to see Thor, but he looked past him rather quickly, his piercing gaze settling on Peter. “Sup, Spiderling?” he quipped. “Care to explain why you were out so late?”

  
Before Peter could even open his mouth, Thor was already trying to save him. “I can explain,” he began.

 

“Save it. Peter can speak for himself.” He cocked his head to one side. “So, kiddo? Where have you been? Don’t just leave me hanging.”

 

“I— I wanted to stay here for a bit, and look at the stars and stuff,” Peter explained. He felt silly, saying it out loud. “I was perfectly safe!” he added quickly. “I had Thor with me!”

 

Tony huffed. “Ah, yes, Thor, who didn’t even bother to let me know that he’d found you.”

 

“I was going to escort him back to Stark Tower, Tony,” Thor said. “As small Peter has said, no harm would have come to him while he was with me.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “And when exactly were you planning on bringing him back? I was about to summon all of the Avengers to a midnight meeting to come and find you, Pete!”

 

“Wait,” Peter interrupted “how did _you_ find me? I took the tracker out of my suit ages ago!”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said shortly. “You’re coming home with me.”

 

“Am I grounded?”

 

Tony seemed to think for a moment. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks for the idea. Yes, you’re grounded.”

 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter whined.

 

“Mr. Parker,” Tony retorted. Clearly, there was no arguing with him. Peter opened his mouth, and then closed it again, at a loss for words.

 

“I think your apprentice is shook,” Thor chimed in, sounding matter-of-fact. He turned to Peter. “Did I use it right?”

 

Tony blinked at him. “So Peter’s been stargazing with you, _and_ teaching you slang words?”

 

Thor was clearly trying to repress a smile. “Why, yes. We had a grand time together. Is that a problem?”

 

“What? No, no.” Tony shook his head. “I just hope that one day the god of thunder can find his own apprentice and stop stealing other people’s.”

 

Thor leaned over to whisper in Peter’s ear. “He’d a tad overprotective, isn’t he?”

 

Peter stifled a laugh. “You think?” he murmured back.

 

“I can hear you!” Tony snapped. “Peter, come on. It’s going to be morning soon. Tell Thor goodbye.”

 

Peter turned shyly to the demigod. “Bye,” he said. “It was great getting to meet you! I learned a lot!”

 

“Farewell, Peter! I expect I will be seeing you around, yes?”

 

Peter grinned. “Absolutely!”

 

Thor beamed at him, holding his gaze for a moment before swinging his hammer around and launching himself into the sky, Mjolnir leading the way. A moment later, he was out of sight.

 

Without a word, Tony stepped back into the Iron Man suit and took off into the sky, weaving expertly in between the city buildings. Peter followed close behind, nimbly spinning and leaping from rooftop to rooftop with his webs, white strings flying everywhere.

  
After a moment, Tony spoke. “I’ll forgive you on one condition: that tomorrow night you and I stay up even later than this, watching Indiana Jones and stuffing ourselves with ice cream.”

 

Peter smiled. “Yes, sir! Also, am I still grounded?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Mr. Stark!”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is the pun master and Tony is not a fan

It was no secret that Peter Parker liked to make puns.   
  
It was also not a secret that his mentor, Tony Stark, did not appreciate said puns.   
  
So naturally, Peter took it upon himself to dish out puns every chance he had.   
  
A few golden opportunities regularly presented themselves every time Peter worked with Mr. Stark in the lab. On one particularly fateful day, he’d been looking on as Tony worked to improve his Iron Man tech. His objective had been to find a way to summon the parts of his suit to his person at an even faster rate. Peter was mostly there so Tony could bounce ideas off of him, and to offer the most helpful input he could think of. Which, if he did say so himself, was pretty darn helpful.   
So helpful, in fact, that by the end of the afternoon Tony was ready for a trial run. He stood in the middle of his lab and stretched out one hand, straining toward the Iron Man hand that lay on the table near Peter. After a moment, it quivered, and then streaked through the air toward Tony. It flew past his outstretched hand and collided with his abdomen instead, knocking him down onto his backside and then careening onto the floor behind him. Tony stayed there, swearing, looking irritated but otherwise uninjured.   
Peter frowned, going over to him. “Aw, Mr. Stark!” he said innocently. “Don’t look so _down_!”

Tony was not amused.  
***  
The next evening, Peter poked his head around the lab door. “Hey, Mr. Stark!”  
Tony didn’t look up from the damaged Iron Man hand he was studying. It looked like the one from yesterday’s misadventure. “What’s up?”  
“You’ve been down here awhile,” Peter said. He held up a pack of Altoids. “Do you want to try an experi– _mint_?”  
Tony looked up and groaned. “Stop. Please. Stop.”   
Peter just laughed.  
  
He would not stop.   
***  
Make no mistake, his pun abilities extended far beyond the lab. One morning, Tony had volunteered to pick Peter up from school. He knew the kid had had a rough week with exams and papers, and had been planning to take him to a movie that afternoon as a treat.   
He had been betting that Pete would be too tired for puns.   
He had bet wrong. (It looked like he owed Banner $20 now).  
They chatted idly as Tony drove on to the movie theatre, talking mostly about Peter’s assignments and the current Lego contraption he was building with Ned. Gradually, it turned toward the Avengers and the current big bad they were tracking in Siberia. “Hey kid,” Tony asked as they pulled up in the parking lot, “just because I’m curious, who do you think is the strongest Avenger?”   
“I know you say it’s the Hulk,” Peter said. “But wouldn’t it be Thor, since he’s got Mjolnir?”  
“Yes, but without his hammer, the Hulk would overpower our friendly god of thunder.”  
Peter tilted his head to one side. “But, as a god, wouldn’t he have some other way to use his powers, even without his hammer?”  
Tony glanced in the mirror, frowning when he realized he wasn’t parked perfectly straight. “Asking the tough questions today, hm?”  
Peter grinned. “You bet! And Mr. Stark–“  
He knew that tone. _Here it comes._  
“Since we don’t agree on who’s the strongest Avenger, doesn’t that mean our views are in _stark contrast_ to each other?” Peter beamed. “Get it? Cause your last name is Stark, and—”  
Tony inhaled deeply. “Get out of my car.”

***  
That weekend, Tony had to suit up to go run a test flight. Peter watched him from the ground, tilting his head back in awe. No matter how many times he saw Iron Man in action, it would always feel as exciting as the first. The familiar vibrant shades of red and gold, gleaming in the sun, flying so smoothly through the air, would always be his favorite sight.  
But that excitement quickly turned into worry when he saw one of the Iron repulsors start smoking, and, after a moment, a few tiny flames started spouting out.   
He radioed immediately. “Mr. Stark!”  
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” A few moments later Tony returned to the ground, stamping out the tiny flames on the dirt. He popped out of the suit a moment later, completely fine, and more annoyed than anything else.  
Peter,  on the other hand, had been genuinely terrified. But the problem was that he decided to express this worry in the worst way possible: “That trial was something else! You were on _fire_ , man!”  
Tony face-palmed. “ _Why_ do I hang out with you?”  
***   
Their relationship continued like this for a while, with Peter being the pun lover and Tony the pun loather. They fell into a rhythm. It, unfortunately for Tony, became expected that he would hear a few puns out of Peter during just about every interaction they had.   
Which was why the next turn of events was so shocking.   
It had been raining when Tony and Peter returned from repairing a window on the fourth floor of Stark Tower. Tony looked over his shoulder, watching the downpour dwindle to a drizzle. And, without even thinking, he said:   
“Looks like the rain is petering out.”  
Peter looked astounded. “Did– did you just make a pun?”  
Tony looked horrified. “Not intentionally!”  
_“You made a pun!”  
_ “No!”  
“I am so proud of you!” Peter pulled out his phone.   
“Please don’t tell your friends.”  
“I’m already telling Ned!”  
“My reputation is going to be in tatters.” Tony was holding back a laugh now too. “Go get dry, kid.”   
Peter cackled, running off. “I’m never letting you live this down!”  
“Let it die!” Tony shouted behind him.   
_“Never!”_  
  
He never did let it die.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a bad night. Peter is there to help.

Peter stumbled out of his guest room at Stark Tower just before 1 AM, sleep dragging at his feet and making him clumsy. He tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as he could manage, cringing each time the floor creaked. After the fourth time, he gave up, using his webs to swing himself the rest of the way down the stairs. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d woken up craving a bagel. 

  
He thought he’d been mostly quiet in his trip to the kitchen– but, when he started to tiptoe through the living room, Tony was already seated on the couch, his hands folded in his lap. He looked up as Peter came in the room. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his hair was unkempt, wavy strands poking out in every direction. 

  
“Hey kid, what’s up?” His mentor had clearly been trying for a lighthearted tone, but even his voice sounded hoarse, rough. It was clear that he was exhausted. 

  
Peter shifted awkwardly, guilt flooding through him. He should’ve known that Tony would hear him moving about. Not much could get past him. “Uh, hey, Mr. Stark! I’m sorry I woke you up, I didn’t mean to!”

  
Tony shook his head. “Nah, it’s not you. I’ve been hanging out here for a while.”

  
Peter frowned, concern sweeping through him. “You mean… you’ve just been sitting here? In the dark? Is everything okay?”

  
“I’m fantastic.” Tony stood up, beginning to lead the way into the kitchen. “I’m assuming you came down for a midnight snack, right? I can give you a tour of the fridge.”

  
Peter followed him, raising his eyebrows in concern. His appetite was long forgotten. “I’m more worried about you, Mr. Stark.” 

  
“Don’t be.” Tony crossed the threshold and made his way to the fridge, beginning to rummage through its contents. “Let’s see here, we have– um, some fruit, dumplings, a fudge of some kind…”

“Mr. Stark?”

“Oh, here’s some guacamole. Don’t you kids have a meme about that or something?” 

“Mr. Stark!” 

“Some leftover bisque...” 

“Tony!” 

He sighed. “Yes?”

  
There was a moment of silence. Now that he actually had Tony’s attention, Peter suddenly felt awkward. What was he supposed to say? Was he actually supposed to say anything, or should he just let it go? He _was_ supposed to say something, wasn’t he? 

He decided to start out slowly. “Um, Mr. Stark, don’t you think it’s a little strange you were sitting alone in the living room so late?”

  
His mentor huffed. “Geez. Can’t a guy do whatever he wants in his own tower?”

  
“Tony, what’s _wrong_?” he pleaded. “Can I help?”

  
He sighed again and closed the fridge. “I’m afraid it’s nothing you can help with, kid.”

  
“Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

  
Tony shook his head, the tiniest hint of a smile appearing on his face. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  
“No!” Peter shook his head, his eyes wide and earnest. “Not when it involves someone I care about.”

  
Tony let out a long sigh. “Do you remember New York?”

  
“You mean, the big battle against the Chitauri? Yeah! It was ages ago now, but I remember it was crazy! I mean, I didn’t actually fight in the battle with you guys, of course, but I remember it was really wild and then there was a wormhole and—”

  
Tony stiffened, and Peter froze mid-sentence. “I– I didn’t mean to…”

  
“No, no, you’re right. There was a wormhole.” Tony spoke slowly. “There was a wormhole, and I carried a nuke through it. And, yes, that was ages ago, and I don’t think about too much these days. But see, sometimes I _do_ think about it, and, when I do that, it means I can’t sleep, all right? I had a nightmare tonight, so I went for a walk around the tower, and now here I am.”  


“I… I’m sorry.” It was small, but it was all Peter could think of to say. He felt helpless.

  
Tony shrugged. “It is what it is.” His words were brave, but his tone was flat, and, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, he looked worn down. Exhausted. Almost defeated. 

  
Peter didn’t know what to do, but it was clear that, in this situation, words weren’t enough. He took a moment to gather his courage before surging forward and giving Tony one brief, big hug. Then he backed away, his face on fire and eyes fixed on the ground. 

  
Tony just stood there for a moment, and then Peter heard him chuckle softly. He looked up, relieved to see that Tony had a small, genuine smile on his face. It was the first time he’d seen him smile all evening. “Don’t get all emotional on me now.”

“I just want you to be happy, Mr. Stark.”

  
Tony raised an eyebrow. “What did I _just_ say about emotions?” Despite the words, there was no bite to his tone, and the small smile on his face grew exponentially larger. After a moment, he turned away, signaling that the moment was over. Their conversation hadn’t fixed his trauma; it hadn’t reversed his anxiety. The mental scars were all still there, as deep and as present as ever. But for the moment, Peter had made its weight feel bearable again. 

 

And right now, that was all he needed.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony and Bruce were in the middle of a lab session, recalibrating an Iron suit, when they suddenly heard a dull  _thunk_  echo from the nearest guest room, followed by muffled swearing. They glanced at each other, bemused. Peter was inhabiting that room for the week, and it sounded like him. The worrisome part was that Peter hardly ever cursed. Unless, of course, it was something serious.

Abruptly, Tony swiveled on his heels and bolted toward the sound, Bruce on his heels. They came to a screeching halt outside the teenager’s closed door, and Tony knocked anxiously. “Hey kid? Open up.”

There was shuffling on the other side of the door, and then Peter opened it a moment later, looking ruffled but unharmed. “What’s going on?” Bruce asked.

Tony held up a finger. “I’ll do the questioning,” he told his companion. He turned back to Peter. “What’s going on?” 

He ignored Bruce’s irritated groan and peered over the kid’s shoulder, noting how the bed was filled with textbooks and loose notebook papers. There was a particularly heavy book lying haphazardly on the floor– that must’ve been what made the thumping noise. 

“Nothing,” Peter said.

Tony frowned. “Yeah, nice try.”

“You look upset,” Bruce chimed in. “Is something the matter?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid.” 

“If it’s stressing you out, it isn’t stupid,” Tony said firmly. 

His apprentice looked at him for a moment, and then relented. “I have a test tomorrow,” he explained “and it’s asking all sorts of physics questions.”

“But you’re brilliant at physics, kid,” Tony responded, slightly confused. “I don’t know why that’s a problem.”

“I’m good at the math,” Peter pointed out. “And that’ll be on the test, I’m sure. But my teacher is also going to be asking about who invented certain things and when– you know, historical stuff. But I can never remember names or dates, and I don’t want to fail it.” 

Bruce looked thoughtful. “Can I see the study guide?”

“Yeah, here.” Peter ran over to his bed and fished a paper out of the spread before jogging back to Bruce and handing it to him. “What’re you looking for, exactly?”

“I’m going to quiz you,” Bruce announced. “I know I learn the best when I hear something said aloud. You might be the same way.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “You’re going to help? Oh my God, that’s awesome! Thank you, Mr. Banner, you’re the best!”

Tony frowned in mock disapproval. “Hey!” 

“You’re great too, Mr. Stark.”

“I know.” He looked over at Bruce. “You start asking him questions, and we’ll alternate.”

“Fine by me,” Bruce said. Then he paused, looking thoughtful. “And we’ll make it interesting. Whichever two of us  _aren’t_  asking the question can compete to see who can answer it first. Okay?”

 “I’m gonna kick your butt at this, kid,” Tony murmured.

 “No you’re not,” Peter declared, dabbing for emphasis.

 Tony cleared his throat. “I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen. Also, our friendly Dr. Banner might Hulk out if you do that again, so I wouldn’t.”

 Bruce just huffed. “ _Anyway_ , what is the law that says a charge cannot be changed?”

 Immediately, both Peter and Tony were shouting frantically, the dab forgotten.  _“Law of conservation of charge!”_

“Ooh, a tie. Nice. And who came up with it?”

“William Watson,” Peter said quickly, before Tony could draw a breath to answer.

“Technically yes, but in your notes here you’ve written Ben Franklin. That makes sense,” Bruce continued “because Watson was the guy who first suggested it, but Franklin tends to get more credit. I think you just got them confused.”

“How did you know about Watson anyway?” Tony asked. 

Peter shrugged. “There’s a poster of him in my class. I just guessed.”

“Huh. Okay. Umm,” Tony took the paper from Bruce and glanced down at it. “Who won the 1921 Nobel Peace Prize for Physics?”

 _“Einstein!”_  Bruce and Peter exclaimed in unison.

“And what for?”

Peter prepared to for another round of frantic shouting, but, to his surprise, Bruce took a step back. “Actually,” he said “I want to make sure Peter remembers this question because teachers always love to ask it. What did he win it for, Peter?”

Peter, meanwhile, was blanking. “Uhhhhhhh…”

“His photoelectric work,” Bruce supplied, after Peter’s  _uhhh_ s had gone on for a solid minute. 

“Oops.” 

Tony shrugged. “Happens to the best of us, kid. But you remember it now, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark! And thank you, Dr. Banner!”

“Not a problem. Alright, my turn.” Bruce peeked at the sheet. “Speaking of our buddy Einstein, what’s the name of the papers he wrote in 1905-”

 _“Annus Mirabilis!”_  Again, Tony and Peter were saying it at the same time.

“— and what did they cover?”

Tony glanced at him. “All you, kid.”

“Uh, photoelectric effect, Brownian motion, special relativity, and…” Peter’s voice trailed off as the last few words eluded him. 

Bruce hummed patiently, but Tony was smirking. “Well, don’t leave us hanging.” 

“Uhh… mass-energy equivalence?”

Bruce grinned and gave him a high five. “Yes!”

Their study session continued as dinner time approached. Finally, as the sun began to set, Bruce asked what would turn out to be the last question of the evening: 

“Another one,” Bruce said “who invented the pendulum?”

“Easy! Galileo!”

Tony peered over Bruce’s shoulder at the paper. “And where did he invent it?”

“…Italy?”

Tony sighed. “What building?”

“I know it was a cathedral.”

Bruce nodded. “It starts with a P…”

Peter brightened. “Pizza!”

“No,  _Pisa_ ,” Tony corrected. “The Pisa cathedral.”

“Oh I know, Mr. Stark. I just suddenly really wanted pizza.”

Tony glanced at Bruce. “What say you, Mr. Seven PhDs? Study break?”

  
***  
In the end, fueled by pizza and raging test anxiety, Peter Parker went on to score a satisfying A- on his physics exam the next day. He walked around the entire rest of the school day with a warm, happy glow in his chest. And it wasn’t just because of the boost to his grade, although that was certainly part of the reason. (He hadn’t told Mr. Stark this, but he’d desperately needed one).   
  
No, it was because he knew Tony and Bruce would be proud of him. He was able to tell two world-renown science geniuses that he’d gotten a good grade on the exam they personally helped him study for.   
  
Sure enough, after he told them the news that afternoon, Tony ruffled his hair and Bruce gave him a strong pat on the shoulder. Both wore expressions of fond pride, and Tony even drew him in for a brief hug. “You worked hard, kid. You earned it.”  
  
Peter smiled.   
  
 _My life is just the best._


	7. Father's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter is an anxious spider son.

Peter had been nervous all day. He wasn’t sure if this was a weird thing to do or not. 

  
What if it was? What if Mr. Stark made fun of him? What if he laughed at him?

  
_He would never do that_ , Peter told himself. _That’s just the fear talking._

  
Still… what if this went wrong? What if this was really, really weird?

  
But then again– wasn’t this what people did on Father’s Day?

  
Peter was wringing his hands together the entire ride in the backseat of Happy’s car. Nerves lined his stomach, and he felt almost queasy from the anxiety. Or maybe it was from the carsickness. Or both. 

  
He was just meeting Tony today for a regular meeting. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and neither of them had mentioned Father’s Day to the other. Why would they? It wasn’t like they were biologically related. Which meant he probably had no business giving Tony the Father’s Day card he had in his backpack. 

  
Then again, in the past he’d done a lot of things that he didn’t have business doing. Why stop now?  


Happy dropped him off, and Peter stumbled out of the car, still weighed down by worry. He was promptly greeted by Tony, who ushered him into a meeting room. The afternoon sped by, and before he knew it, they were wrapping up and the evening was slowly approaching.   


The next thing he knew, they were waiting together for Happy to pull up to the curb, and Peter knew he only had a few more seconds to make his move. He saw the familiar glint of the black vehicle in the distance, and counted the seconds until it pulled up to the entrance. At the last possible moment, Peter hesitated before pulling the card out of his backpack, shoving it at Tony’s chest and sprinting away. He dove into the backseat and yanked on his seatbelt as the car pulled away from the curb and sped on down the road. 

  
Tony frowned, slightly taken aback, and glanced down at the card in his hands. The front was striped with brilliant shades of red and gold, and when he opened it, there was a note written in Peter’s familiar messy scrawl:

  
_Hey Mr. Stark! So, just to make things clear, I know you’re not actually my dad. But you’re kind of like a father figure to me, in a way, and Father’s Day doesn’t have to mean only celebrating biological fathers! Thank you so much for everything!  
You’re my hero, Tony!_

Tony was most definitely not tearing up a little at that last line, no, not at all. (He most definitely was. So what? Tears are manly). He looked up, smiling fondly at the empty space where Peter had just been. He wished the kid had stuck around, but he wasn’t getting away from him that easily.   
  
By the time Peter arrived at May’s apartment, he wasn’t surprised to find that Tony was already there, no doubt having flown there in his Iron suit. The card was still in his hand. “Where do you think you’re going?” Tony asked.

  
“I have… I have homework.”

  
“Peter, it’s the summer. You don’t even have school.”

  
Peter looked embarrassed. “I know! I’m sorry, I just got freaked out.”

  
“Yeah, no kidding.” He opened his arms. “Come here, give your old man a hug.”

  
They embraced for a few warm, solid seconds. Peter had come to learn something about Tony: his hugs were few and far in between, but, when he gave them, they felt like the most protective thing in the universe. Felt secure, safe—paternal, almost. After a few long, incredible moments, Peter backed into his apartment, a glowing smile on his face as he closed the door behind him. 

 _  
_ Tony turned away, feeling satisfied as he took off for home. Peter looked up to him, and he wore that fact like a metaphorical medal. He felt honored. Humbled, too, somehow. Yes, he heard all the time about how much the Iron Man was feared and respected, he knew his reputation preceded him worldwide. His name was regularly said by news reporters, always filling headlines and special editions. He had fame, he had respect, he had the attention of everyone all over the globe.

 

But somehow, all of that public praise couldn’t compare to the joy he felt at being handed a Father’s Day card from one kid in Queens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of now, this is the last installment of this series! Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with it! This is the first time in years I've actually completed a fanfiction, so I'm hype! I might be writing more for it in the future, but life is about to get SUPER busy for me, haha. But I'd love to return back to this at some point! We shall see!!!


End file.
